The Case of the Cunning Kidnapper
by quezovercoatl
Summary: What doctor Rodney McKay wants for Christmas is time to finish is current project in Area 51 so he can start his new project in Antarctica. What he gets is jury duty. - McShep - AU.


AN: This story was written for Leupagus for last years SGA Secret Santa on LJ.  
Many thanks to shiny starlight for beta'ing this story and to smuffster for helping me with the storytitle.

* * *

**The Case of the Cunning Kidnapper**

**Monday **  
Rodney surveyed his hotel room as he dumped his suitcase on the queen-sized bed closest to the window. There wasn't much of a view, not the wide open spaces he saw from the windows of his own house, but he was in downtown Las Vegas now and therefore should count himself lucky that he wasn't being blinded by neon lights. There was a table in the corner of the room that he was claiming for himself. The noisy air conditioning system was in desperate need of servicing and some ugly paintings that could possibly pass as art adorned the walls. The bedside table lay between the two double beds and contained two night lights and a telephone (one that could most likely only be used to dial the reception and room service). A brand new looking Lazyboy sat opposite the beds and next to a sizable dresser. Perched on top was a coffee maker, complete with some satchels of substandard coffee and next to that was a big empty space where the TV should have been.

Next on his inspection was the bathroom. It was small, but functional. It had a bath with a shower hanging over it, a toilet, a wash basin and a fair sized mirror. He was pleased to note that this hotel wasn't trying to poison him with the complimentary soap and bottles of shampoo, like they had done in the Thistle hotel where all bath products had contained citrus. Another great thing was the fact that the door to the bathroom was not made from glass. You would think it would be obvious, but several places he'd stayed in thought differently about it. He never understood why people would want to have glass doors leading to the bathroom because no matter how much anyone loved there partner, there was nothing sexy about watching them sit on the toilet. And he was going to have to share this room with someone he barely knew. So solid door? Definitely a good thing.

There was a knock on the door as he left the bathroom.

'Probably room service,' he thought, and told them to come in.

"I would," the voice on the other side of the door drawled, "but since you took off with both keys to the room, I can't."

So not room service, but his room mate for the next couple of days. At least he hoped it would only be days and not weeks or God forbid even months. There was no telling if the labs would still be standing if his minions were allowed to go unsupervised for that long.

Not to mention that the last time he had to share a room was college and things hadn't gone well than either.

He wondered briefly which of the six male jurors it was standing on the other side of the door. Not that it really mattered, but he hoped it wouldn't be Ford. The young man had sat next to him in court today and was one big ball of energy, never sitting still, always twirling his pen or using his fingers to tap out some sort of rhythm on his leg. He was probably the type of person to wake up all bouncy and bubbly in the morning while Rodney himself needed at least two cups of coffee before he even considered waking up.

There was another knock on the door.

"Are you going to let me in, or am I going to have to sleep in the hallway?"

Rodney opened the door and looked at the smiling man with hazel eyes and five o clock shadow standing in front of him. He was a little taller than him with a slender build. The dark hair on his head stood up in a way that was definitely not natural and he wore a black leather jacket, black T-shirt with panda print, black jeans and black boots.

"Oh, it's you," Rodney said as he opened the door. "Come in, Flyboy."

The man in the hallway raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Flyboy?"

"Well..." Rodney said, stepping back so the man could enter the room. "You're a pilot aren't you? I mean, you definitely look like one with the hair and the... outfit. And I'm pretty sure you mentioned being a pilot at lunch. You did say that, didn't you?" he asked, his voice a bit uncertain now. He had after all met 11 new people today and he had always sucked at remembering even the basic things like names.

Rodney closed the door and turned to face the man who had dumped his duffel bag on the other bed and was now slouched against a nearby wall.

"I am and I did," he said as he looked around the room. "You however haven't said much of anything, except that you were mortally allergic to citrus. That you mentioned several times and quite loudly too."

"If you could be killed by a random slice of lemon added to a drink or a snack, you'd want to warn people too."

"A random slice of lemon?"

"It happens more than you think, you know. People put citrus in everything nowadays and it's not like people with a nut allergy. They get helpful stickers on products, warning them, but people with a citrus allergy are just left to fend for themselves," Rodney huffed, annoyed that once again he couldn't get any one to take his citrus allergy seriously.

"I'm sure we all remember now," the man said. "But still it would have been nice if you'd shared a bit more than that at lunch."

"Like what?"

"Your name would have been a start. What you do for a living, hobbies... that sort of thing."

"I don't see why. It's not like I'll see any of you after this trial is over and I don't see the need to socialize with people who are most likely too stupid to even grasp the tiniest bit of what I do for a living. They probably don't even know the sixth Mersenne Prime is."

"Your name would be handy, since calling you 'Hey you' every time we want to say something to you is going to wear out real soon. My name is John Sheppard, by the way," he said as he extended his hand. "And it's 131,071."

Rodney blinked a few times, realized that his jaw had dropped and closed his mouth and stepped forward to shake John's hand.

"Rodney McKay. Doctor Rodney McKay PhD. I'm a physicist, not a medical doctor, so don't ask me to check on any weird bodily abnormalities, because I won't. Also, you're a pilot. How did you know that?"

"They don't just let anybody fly planes you know? Also, I like numbers."

"Knowing Mersenne Primes is more than just liking numbers. 7549."

"Prime."

"42441"

"Not Prime"

"99689"

"Prime. Are we going to keep doing this all night, because I can write down a list of prime numbers if that makes it easier."

"See what I mean? Normal pilots don't know things like that."

"How do you know? Have you known many pilots?" John asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"No, but..."

"That kind of attitude makes me glad I never joined Mensa."

"You passed a Mensa test?"

"Yes."

"And didn't join?"

"That's what I just said, didn't I?"

"If you didn't want to join Mensa, why take the test?"

"To show that I could join their little group if I wanted to and it's also a good way to get people who keep bragging about how smart they are to shut up."

With that said, Sheppard pushed himself away from the wall and started unpacking his duffel bag. Rodney started unpacking his too. They were told to bring enough clothes for one week. Since he wasn't allowed to bring his laptop he thought it would be a good time to catch up on the drivel so-called scientists were publishing, and had also packed a whole stack of science magazines. He'd also packed an Ancient gadget that the people who searched his luggage had mistaken for a paper weight. He hadn't set them straight for obvious reasons, and also because there was a chance it actually was a paper weight, since they hadn't figured out what it did yet. The report that came with the device said that it had lit up when General O'Neill had touched it, but that it didn't seem to do anything else. Unfortunately the General had refused to come to Area 51 and Rodney wasn't allowed to go to Cheyenne Mountain so he could run some tests there. He put the device on top of the magazines, knowing it would only be a matter of time before he figured out how it worked.

"Do you mind if I use the top drawer? I've got a bad back," he said to Sheppard

"Then you're not going to like sleeping on these mattresses," Sheppard said as he demonstrated the softness of the mattress by pushing down on it.

"I know. I have a perfectly good prescription mattress at home, but it's so far out of reach, it might as well be on another planet. They wouldn't even let me bring it here."

"You would have dragged your mattress across town and up two flights of stairs? I thought you had a bad back?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Obviously I wouldn't have done the lifting myself. I would have someone do that for me. As it is, I'll just have to suffer for a few days, but so will this hotel when I send them the chiropractor bill when this trial is done. Which, with any luck, will be Thursday afternoon."

"You don't think it will be longer?"

"Nope. You were there when the judge explained that unless there are unforeseen witnesses, closing arguments will be held on Thursday morning. We'll start jury deliberations after lunch, find her guilty and be home in time for dinner and I can be back at work on Friday," he said, lightly bouncing on his feet.

"Wow, you must really like your job if you're that exited to get back to it."

"What I do is important, you know, and it's essential that I get back as soon as possible before all the progress I have made it lost and I'll have to start all over again."

"Which would be a bad thing."

"Obviously. Especially because I have to finish this project before I can go to Antarctica for my next project."

"Antarctica? I thought all they did there was count penguins and measure how thick the ice is. Didn't think that was something they needed a physicist for."

"I'd tell you, but I can't. All I can say is that it will one day get me the Nobel Prize."

"You're pretty sure of yourself."

"If you combine important research with the smartest man in the world, then the outcome should be obvious to anyone. Which is why it's better for everyone that this trial end soon."

"I get that, but maybe you should wait with the guilty verdict until you've heard all of the evidence. As a scientist, shouldn't you be about checking facts and not just jumping to conclusions?"

"I'm not. I'm just saying that the prosecutors' openings statement was very convincing and if he can prove everything he said, I don't see how the verdict can be anything other than guilty, but don't worry," Rodney said as he saw John's mouth open in an attempt to interrupt him. "I promise to listen to anything the defence has to say too."

Sheppard grinned. "Thanks."

Rodney shrugged. "No need to thank me. It's not like there's anything else I can do in court."

Before Sheppard could reply to that, there was a knock on the door and someone informed them that dinner was ready and they were requested to join the rest of the jurors in the dining room that was specially set aside for them.

"They'd better not be serving any food with citrus in it," Rodney grumbled.

"I'm sure the hotel chefs have been informed by the court of the allergies you and any other of the jurors have. And you probably informed them the minute you stepped foot in this place, but if it makes you feel any better, I'll pre-taste your food for you." Sheppard grinned. "Especially dessert."

"If there is citrus involved, you're welcome to it, but if it's chocolate related, than you won't get anywhere near it. In fact, you'd do well to guard your own ," Rodney said as he and his room mate for the next few days walked into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

**Tuesday**  
Rodney had hit the snooze button on the alarm for the third time when a freshly showered and clean shaven John Sheppard switched on the lights and opened the curtains to let the sunlight brighten the room even further. Rodney grumbled and hid his head under the pillow. He had always hated getting up early in the morning, even when he was working on fascinating projects like the X-302's and this trial was nowhere near as interesting.

"McKay, if you don't get up in five minutes, I'll pull the blankets off," Rodney heard Sheppard say with a voice that sounded much to awake for this time of day.

Rodney got his head from out of the pillow to glare at the other man.

"You wouldn't."

"I would, because if you don't get up soon, you'll miss breakfast."

"I've got some power bars I can eat if that's the case, and besides, I don't need breakfast. What I need is coffee. Lots of it."

"How about I make you a deal?" Sheppard bargained. "You get up and take a shower and when you get out, coffee will be waiting for you. Don't wait too long to decide though. This offer will only stand for the next 5 minutes after which I'll go back to plan A."

Rodney waited four and a half minutes and then got out of bed.

"Deal," he said.

"Smart thinking," Sheppard replied and walked over to the coffeemaker.

"I'm a genius. All the thinking I do is smart," Rodney replied and dumped a bag of coffee on the dresser. "Also, use this to make the coffee and not that substandard stuff they have here. You can drink it if you want, but there is no way I'm going to if I can drink real coffee instead."

~_~_~_~

When they got to the breakfast room after Rodney's short, but refreshing, shower and a large cup of extra strength coffee, Rodney briefly wondered if he had taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in a wake, so somber was the mood compared to last night. But, as he recognized his fellow jurors, so that scenario was unlikely. Everybody was silent though.

"Where's Ford? He not up yet?" Rodney asked, looking at his watch. "He'd better get here soon if he wants to eat something because we're leaving in 20 minutes."

He grabbed a few bagels and cream cheese and noted that a Gothic looking guy had taken the last of the Bavarian cream filled donuts.

"He's gone." A tall slender woman with long, light brown hair said, before she started hiccupping.

"Gone where?" Rodney asked, taking a bite from his bagel. "The bathroom? The Lobby? Or maybe to get something from the vending machine?

"Hospital." The woman said in between hiccups.

"Hospital? Did they say what was wrong with him?" Rodney hoped it wasn't something contagious, since he'd been sitting next to Ford all day yesterday.

"He probably took a wrong pill," Donut stealing guy said.

"Todd, we don't know that for sure," Jennifer said. Dr. Jennifer Keller was one of the jurors whose name he actually remembered. She sat to his left in the jury box and told him all about how different life in Las Vegas was compared to the small town she grew up and worked in for most of her life.

"Of course we know. The guy is a VJ, they take pills all the time and it was obvious the guy was on something from they way he couldn't sit still. He's lucky you were his roommate because he'd probably be dead then instead of being carted off to rehab."

'He would have been luckier if I had recognized his symptoms before he went critical," Jennifer said and stared at her coffee cup.

"I'm sure you did all you could under the circumstances Jennifer," a balding man wearing a suit and tie and glasses said as he patted her on the back in a way that Rodney supposed was meant to be supportive, but came across as incredibly awkward.

"Thank you Richard, that is very kind of you to say."

"And if your next roommate is a druggie, you'll know what to look for," Todd said.

"That was totally uncalled for," Jennifer said angrily as she looked up from her coffee cup.

"Of course it was," Todd smirked. "I apologize."

As Rodney listened to the most insincere apology he'd heard in a while, he thought about the new juror that was going to be Jennifer's new room mate and the person who would be sitting in the chair on his right; the chair that Ford sat in only yesterday. He wondered if the new man, or woman, would be like Ford or totally different. He finished his bagels and looked at his watch again. He was going to find out soon.

~_~_~_~

"Are you feeling all right Sheppard?" Rodney asked the man who was slouched in the Lazyboy.

Sheppard looked up from the book he was reading.

"Sure Rodney, why wouldn't I be?"

Rodney pointed at the book.

"You're reading literature. Russian literature, without being forced to. You aren't, right? Being forced to read it, I mean."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not being forced. It's a good book, which you would know if you read it."

"No thanks. My sister tried to make me read it once. Said it would be good for me to read something non-science related. I think I got to page 10 before I fell asleep. Besides, that book has hundreds of characters. There's no way I'll remember who's who."

"It's not that bad, once you get used to it and reading it is a good way to relax at the end of the day, which is something you should try too." Sheppard smirked.

"What?"

"Relaxing."

"I relax."

"When? You've spent every minute when we're not in court getting frustrated over that paper weight thing you're tinkering with or criticizing the articles in the magazines you brought with you."

"So? Who says I don't find that relaxing?" Rodney shot back, surprised that that the other man had even noticed what he had been doing. It was probably because they were the only two people in this room. But now that he thought about it, why was Sheppard even here? He could spend the evenings in the communal room that had been set aside for them.

"You might have been able to convince me of that if it weren't for the fact that I can see your blood pressure rise when you're 'relaxing' with those things."

And even though Sheppard hadn't made the air quotes, Rodney had still heard them clearly.

"So maybe these magazines aren't the most relaxing thing to read. They're still more exciting than that book you're reading. And besides, there are fare better ways to relax than reading, Sheppard."

Rodney saw Sheppard grin and replayed what he had said in his mind, feeling himself go red.

"I'm sure you do Rodney," Sheppard drawled. "Maybe you should tell me about it."

Rodney tried to come up with something to say, because there was no way Sheppard was saying what Rodney thought he was saying.

"Also, why do you keep calling me Sheppard? I do have a first name you know."

"Of course I know." Rodney said, glad to be able to lead the conversation to a safer subject.

"With first names there's always the chance the wrong person answers. There's less of a chance of that with surnames. And last names are always listed on name tags in my labs, so when in doubt, you can just get peoples names from that."

Also, calling someone by their first name was more personal, to him at least. It's what you called family and friends, which meant he hadn't called anyone by their given name in a while, because last time he spoke to family was when he had a fight with his sister Jeannie about her decision to put her career on hold to be a stay at home mom and he stopped having friends when he found out that they were only using him to get their grades up.

It's not that he didn't want to be friends with Sheppard. He did, and if he were honest with himself, he wouldn't mind if they were more than just friends either. The chances of Sheppard feeling the same way however, especially on the second situation, were astronomically small.

Rodney had most likely misinterpreted Sheppard's earlier demeanour. It wouldn't be the first time either. A man like Sheppard probably had plenty of friends and even if he were inclined to sleep with men, which Rodney doubted, it would probably be with male models or other ridiculously handsome men and not someone like him.

"They should have had name tags for the jurors too," he continued, fully aware he was babbling now. "It would make things much easier. Fortunately, it will only be two more days before this nightmare is over with and I can back to my normal life."

"I don't get that," Sheppard said, putting his book down.

"What? Name tags? What's not to get about them?" he asked.

"No, not name tags. Jury duty. If you think it's such a big waste of your time, why are you even here? I'm sure someone as smart as you would have been able figure out a way to get out from under it."

Rodney let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Sheppard just wanted to know about the jury thing, which was something he could easily answer and if he played it right, the original topic would never come up again.

"You don't need to be a genius to get yourself disqualified from a jury, and if you're too stupid to come up with something there are even step by step guides for it on the Internet. I could definitely have gotten out of jury duty, it just wouldn't have me any good."

"Why not?"

"My employers feel I should embrace my American citizenship more and when they found out I was selected for jury duty they insisted I be on the jury. I tried to convince them that my time would be much better spent working on the project, but they disagreed. They made it clear that I wouldn't be allowed near the labs the entire length of the trial even if I wasn't picked as a juror. And also, if that were the case they would make sure I would be selected for the next trial and the next just until I had fulfilled my jury duty, and all this time I would be banned from work. So you could say I was highly motivated to be on this jury."

"You're not American?"

"Canadian, actually," he said proudly.

"If you like being Canadian so much, why did you change nationalities?"

"I didn't, I just added one, because it made me much more employable in the US. I would have never gotten the job I have now, if I hadn't been American. What about you?"

"I've always been American." Sheppard said, his face deadpan and Rodney had to resist the urge to throw a pillow at him.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. It seems to me that you wouldn't mind if this trial went on forever. You've even picked the right book for it. So, is it because there is an ex-girlfriend you're avoiding, or do you really like this trial that much?"

"Ex-wife actually, although she lives in Washington, so there isn't much avoiding to be done. And I don't like this trial, I just don't think it should be rushed. This is a person's life were talking about. I don't want to find out later that we've convicted an innocent woman just because we so anxious to get this trial over with that we overlooked a piece of evidence."

"I already told you I was going to take this seriously."

"Good," Sheppard said. He picked up his book and started reading again, indicating that this conversation was over.

Rodney opened his magazine again. He'd been looking forward to reading Dr. Griffin's new theory so he could totally shred it for being wrong, wrong, totally wrong, but somehow, he couldn't stay focused. He kept glancing up to at Sheppard, trying to organize the new information he learned about the man in the 'Sheppard-file;' he now kept in his head. He liked woman, at least enough to marry one, which seemed to indicate that he misinterpreted what had happened earlier. He wondered why Sheppard and his wife had divorced, because he was pretty sure that if he was married to someone like Sheppard, he'd never let them go.

Realizing that his moments of glancing had melded together and he'd been staring at Sheppard for quite some time now, he quickly turned back to his magazine and he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed at the fact that Sheppard had been too engrossed in his reading to notice a thing.

**Wednesday **  
"This is the second day now that I've missed the Bavarian cream filled donuts," Rodney complained as he filled is plate with scrambled eggs, bacon (not the Canadian kind) and some hash browns and took a seat at the breakfast table across from Ronon and Sheppard. ,

"You could come to breakfast on time like the rest of us," Ronon said.

"Or they could bring more donuts, as it's obvious there aren't enough for everyone," Rodney countered.

"Wouldn't matter. They'd still be gone when you got here."

Rodney snorted. Of course they'd be gone. Put a tray of donuts down and they'd be gone in under a minute. He'd seen it at the lab too. And nobody ever considered that someone else might like to get donut too.

"You could come running with me in the morning," Ronon suggested.

"What? What the hell for?"

"Be good for you and there'd be donuts after."

"Or you could save me one. I'm sure you'd do it for Jennifer" Rodney said, looking at the woman who had joined their table. "And running is bad for the joints. I already have a bad back and I certainly don't need add ruined ankles and knees to that equation."

"Running doesn't have to be bad. If you take the time to do a proper warming up and don't overdo things, it's good way to stay healthy," Jennifer said.

"And a great way to start the morning," Ronon added.

"They let you out of the hotel to go running?" Sheppard asked.

"I wish, but they've got treadmills."

"They do? Where?"

"Basement. If you want to come, I'll pick you up at seven.

"Sure, sounds great."

"You'd better not wake me when you get up tomorrow," Rodney said, kicking John under the table. "Some of us need our sleep you know."

"Don't worry, McKay, I'll be quiet. How about you doc? Do you run?"

"No, I prefer hiking," Jennifer said. "It gives you more time to enjoy the scenery."

"What scenery?" Rodney snorted. "It's all desert around here."

"Desert can be pretty to look at you, you know, even though I do prefer hiking in mountains and forests."

"Have you ever hiked in the Grand Canyon?" John asked. "Because it sounds like something you would like."

"I'm sure I would, but it's too far for just a day trip, so it will have to wait until I get my vacation."

"The sight seeing company I work for has some nice hiking arrangements. They fly you to the Grand Canyon in the morning, you have all day for hiking and then you get picked up again

in the evening."

"That sounds like a great idea. Thanks for the information. I'll look into it."

"No problem."

"You work for a sight seeing company?"

"Something wrong with that?" John asked, his tone defensive.

"Of course not. I just thought you'd be a stunt pilot. You seem like the type to like the swooping and the G-forces."

"There's not much demand for stunt-pilots and I still need to pay the bills. Besides, it's not all that bad."

"Not bad? Having to answer the same questions tourists ask over and over again. And I'm pretty sure there's always someone that throws up too." At least there had been the first and

last time he'd been on a helicopter. It was supposed to have been a team building experience, but they'd now seen Kavanagh vomit and he was quite certain that all of his fellow scientists agreed with him that it was _definitely not_ as a bonding moment.

Unless it was all of them bonding in united disgust at Kavanagh.

"There is that, but there are also good things, like seeing the happiness on peoples faces and watching the sunset over the Grand Canyon."

"That does sound nice," Rodney conceded.

"I should take you some times. It's really beautiful."

Rodney wanted to ask what Sheppard had meant by that, but didn't. There were only two things it could mean. Sheppard was asking him on a date, which would be great, but also totally unrealistic. Which left reason two: He searching for more customers for his company. He had after all also offered to fly Jennifer to the Grand Canyon. He didn't want to ask only to be given a brochure with flight schedules and prices. Not knowing was better.

~_~_~_~

"Tomorrow I'm asking the judge if I can have a different seat," Rodney said when he and Sheppard got back to their room at the end of the day.

"I thought you liked Jennifer and Ronon."

"Like is such a strong word."

"You can try to deny it, but you know you do."

"They're not bad, but things were much better before they fell in love."

"I think it's cute that they found each other."

Rodney snorted. "You would, but you're not the one stuck between them in court and having to pass their notes. It's like dealing with two 13 year olds, instead of two grown adults.

Also, Ronon kept poking me in the thigh with his pen if I didn't pass the notes fast enough for his liking. I'm pretty sure it is completely covered in bruises."

"I'm sure it's not that bad."

"You don't know that. I bruise easily, you know."

"Do you want me to check?"

"What? No!" Rodney said, his voice sounding a bit higher than he intended. He didn't want Sheppard to check his bruises, because to do that, he'd have to take off his pants and he

didn't want to take off his pants with Sheppard watching. Well, if he were honest with himself, he actually did, but not for the same reasons Sheppard did. And while Rodney and his brain knew that, other parts of his body would probably be confused and get the wrong message.

"Why not, Rodney?" Sheppard needled.

"Because I don't," Rodney replied and he hated it that he couldn't come up with something better that that. "Why do you want to see them anyway?"

"I'm just concerned for my room mate. I wouldn't want you to end up in hospital you know."

"Hospital?" Rodney could feel his eyes going wide. "But it's just bruises, mild bruises or maybe nothing at all. Nothing that warrants a hospital visit."

At least he hoped not. He hated hospitals, always had. Plus his employers at Area 51 would probably see a hospital visit right now as him faking it to try to get out of jury duty and make him do another trial.

"You don't know that. It could be a mild bruising, but you did say you bruised easily and the likelihood of bruising and the severity of it increases as you age."

"I'm not that old, you know." Rodney huffed.

"No, you're not. But it does mean that what would probably only mild bruises a few years go could now be a moderate or a serious bruise. Maybe even an intermuscular hematoma."

Maybe Sheppard was right, maybe a quick look wouldn't hurt. Rodney pushed his pants down and pulled them back up again a second later. "There."

"I'm fast, but I'm not that fast, McKay. Why don't we do that again, but more slowly? Also, if you get on the bed it will more comfortable for both of us."

Rodney's brain was sending him all kinds of warning signals about getting on a bed with Sheppard, but he couldn't think of a logical reason not to. It was an innocent request after all, and he complied.

Sheppard's hands were on his thigh, mapping out his bruises, prodding them gently.

"That's some nasty bruising you've got," John said. "But it will feel much better in a few days."

He didn't pull away though, like Rodney expected, but kept his hands where they were. The prodding had changed to soft rubbing now.

"What are you doing?"

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "I'm massaging your leg, Rodney. I would think that was obvious."

"Yes, but why?"

"Because it increases the blood flow and it should also decrease the pain you're feeling."

Rodney stared at Sheppard's hands on his leg and had to admit that it was working. He didn't feel pain as his skin and muscle tissue were gently being kneaded. In fact it was starting to feel good. Way too good. He pulled is leg away from Sheppard and covered himself with the bed spread before things got embarrassing.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Sheppard asked, and he sounded worried.

"No, I'm fine. But maybe Jennifer would be better suited to do the treatment.. Not that I don't trust you or anything," he added when he saw the hurt look in Sheppard's eyes. "But you're a pilot and I'm sure you're really great at it, but she's an actual doctor and therefore better qualified."

"I had medical training when I was in the Air Force and she wouldn't do this."

'Do what?' Rodney thought, but then there were lips pressing against his for a few moments before pulling away again.

Kissed.

He was kissed.

By John.

He blinked and tried to come up with a response, but failed.

"You were in the Air Force?" He blurted out, which was a stupid thing to ask after just having been kissed, but it was the only thing his brain could come up with on such short notice.

"I kissed you, and you want to know about the Air Force?" John exclaimed.

"Erm... yes?"

"There's not much to say really. I was in it and then I retired," John told him.

It was the 'I don't really want to talk about it' tone that Rodney recognised by now and he decided not push it. Not only because he respected John's wishes, but also because a conversation like that would only end badly. Rodney could tell that John missed being in the Air Force and would go back to it if he could, but Rodney was glad John was retired, because the thought of him getting shot down did bad things to his stomach.

"Okay, let's not talk about it." Rodney agreed. "We can go back to the other thing. That was a lot more fun."

"It was," John said, throwing the bed spread on the floor. "And it will be even more fun when we're both naked."

~_~_~_~

"I think you can call me John now" Sheppard... eh... John said.

"I could say you can call me Rodney now, but you already did that."

"How about if I call you sweetie pie or my little lambchop, or...."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Of course I would, Pumpkin," John said, grinning happily. "But I might be persuaded to just call you Rodney instead."

"And how would I do such a thing?"

"You're a genius, I'm sure you'll think of something," John smirked.

**Thursday**

He woke up to the sound of a depressing song about a Sunday Morning.

"Sheppard, turn that music off. Some people are trying to sleep here!"

"Sheppard!"

"John?"

He looked up when there was no answer and he realized he was alone in the room and the only way to get some peace and quiet was to get out of bed and turn the music off himself.

He turned off the iPod alarm clock and read the a note lying next to it.

"You're out of bed. Good. I'm working out with Ronon in the gym. I've already put the coffee in the machine. All you have to do is switch it on. I'll see you at breakfast. John. PS. Don't go back to bed"

Rodney smiled as he put the note down and checked on the coffee. Then he looked at the time and figured he had at least 30 minutes before he really had to get up. Rodney decided that John had probably set the wrong time on alarm and crawled back into bed.

~_~_~_~

Grumbling at his alarm clock for failing to wake him on time, Rodney entered breakfast room and went straight for the food counter. There was still time go get something before the staff started clearing everything away.

"Good morning," Jennifer said, pouring him a cup of coffee.

Rodney nodded at her and drank the coffee, before turning his attention to John.

"What were you thinking when you woke me up with that depressing music this morning?"

"Johnny Cash is not depressing. It's great music and I was thinking that since it would get you out of bed, you'd make it to breakfast in time. Which I guess didn't work. I was going to give you five more minutes."

"And then what would I have eaten? We're leaving for court in five minutes."

"No we don't. Court starts later today. And besides, I saved a donut for you."

Rodney looked at the donut that was now on his plate.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you save me a donut?"

"Because you wanted one. You did want one, right?

"It's just that I never... " he trailed off. He'd never expected the donut to be there, even though he practically ordered Ronon to save him one yesterday. But people never did things for him, except when they wanted him to do something for them, and even then they would stick to the bare minimum. He tried to come up with something that John could want from him, something explain this donut, but he couldn't think of a thing.

"Rodney?" John asked, concern in his voice and Rodney realised he must have been quiet for some time now.

"Never mind..." He stammered. "Thanks for the donut."

"No problem," John smiled at him. "You might want to eat it before Ronon steals it off your plate though."

'This was going to be a great day'. Rodney thought. Breakfast was good, the donut delicious. The trial would be finished today.

He would go home, pick up his cat from his neighbour. He'd order really expensive take out food, invite John to come over for dinner and after that things would only get better.

~_~_~_~

Rodney couldn't believe what was happening. This had been an open and shut case if he'd ever seen one. Larrin was obviously guilty and yet there were still six jurors who thought she was innocent.

He sighed. They were going to be stuck in deliberation forever.

"Do you have something to say, Doctor McKay?" The jury foreman or should that be woman, who's name he couldn't remember, asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Rodney said and got up from his seat to address the rest of the jurors. "We need to come back with a unanimous verdict. So all she needs is for one of us to see past her obvious guilt and to make sure she doesn't get convicted."

"That doesn't get her off the hook though."

"That's right, if we don't come back with a unanimous verdict, the judge will declare a mistrial and the case will be retried."

"Exactly," Rodney said.

"You're saying she wants a retrial?"

"No, what she wants is to be found innocent, but since that's never going to happen, a retrial is the best thing for her."

"Why is that?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe people were this stupid. He'd known it, of course, but this case was so obvious.

"If this is declared a mistrial, then a date for a new trial will be set. With the court schedule as busy as it is, it will be many months from now. Until that time she will be free to join her own people."

"So? It's nearly Christmas. She should be with her own people if she's not guilty."

"You are _so_ missing the point, it's not even funny." Rodney was almost shouting now, because he couldn't believe how stupid this people were.

"Doctor McKay, why don't you sit and calm down a bit," the blond haired woman who was the foreman of the jury said. "Give someone else a chance to say something."

A hand was raised.

"Yes, Miss Emmagan?"

"Thank you, Doctor Heightmeyer. I think what Doctor McKay is trying to say is that he doesn't believe Larrin will be here for her re-trial."

Rodney snapped his fingers. "Finally! Someone with a brain."

"Doctor McKay, don't interrupt someone as they are speaking unless you have a question you have to ask?"

"No, not really. Just agreeing with Miss Emmagan. If Larrin is allowed to go back to her people, her _traveling_ people, they will be out of the country the second she's released."

"Mister Woolsey, do you have something to add?

"Yes. Whether or not she shows up for her re-trial should have no bearing on the outcome of this deliberation. We should look at the evidence and make our judgment based on that."

"And that's exactly what we haven't been doing. This woman has played us from the beginning."

"And exactly how has she been doing that, Rodney?

Rodney looked at John who was slouched in his chair. "Do you really need me to explain this to you?" He was a little disappointed. That not all of the jurors got her plan wasn't surprising, but John was smart. He should have figured it out by now.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't," he smirked.

"She's been playing the sympathy card from the beginning with stories about how hard it was growing up as a traveler. How they had to move all the time, that people didn't trust them and that therefore she couldn't trust the outsiders. And that when she found out that some of her fellow Travelers had joined the cult of Lucius Lavin, she had to free his cultists and kidnap Lavin. She wants you to feel sorry for her and to believe this was the only option available to her."

"I don't see what the problem is," Todd remarked. "This Lucius guy is clearly a sleaze ball, and he got what was coming to him."

"And you're an insensitive asshole," Rodney said, remembering what Todd had said to Jennifer two days ago. "But that doesn't mean we can convict you of a crime without evidence."

"You little arrogant bastard!" Todd snarled getting up from his seat and looking like he wanted to jump across the table. "Someone ought to really..."

"Is that supposed to be threatening? Because if it is, you need some practice," Rodney smirked. He wasn't really intimidated by Todd, since he'd been threatened by people far more powerful and far more frightening. John didn't know that however and seemed to take the threat seriously though, because he was standing next to Rodney now, glaring at Todd.

"If you so much as touch him..."

The rest of what John said was drowned out by a loud noise.

"Gentlemen, settle down." Kate Heightmeyer said as the picked the heavy law book of the floor and placed it back on the table. "If you're not back in your seats in 10 seconds, I will get security in here and do it for me."

Rodney sat down immediately and urged John to do the same. John was reluctant to do so, but Rodney persisted and after a 'This is far from over look' to Todd, he slouched down in his chair.

"We should get back to what is important," Kate said. "And that is the case. You've raised some valid points Doctor McKay, but Larrin was put in a difficult position. What else could she have done?"

"She could have gone to the police, like a normal person."

"But would that have accomplished anything? Since all of the people in the cult were adults, there was probably nothing they would have done. Maybe they would have written a report, but I don't think anything more would have happened," Teyla said.

"We'll never know, do we, since the police were never given a chance to do something. And maybe there wouldn't have been evidence against Mr. Lavin, but there is plenty of evidence against Miss Larrin. There were eyewitnesses who not only saw her kidnap the man, but who also recorded it on their cell phones. There's also the fingerprints, as well as the clothing fibers found at both crime scenes and the DNA-evidence. I don't know what else you people could possibly want, besides a signed confession from the kidnapper herself."

"You have made your point Doctor McKay," Dr. Heightmeyer said. "Why don't we go over the evidence one more time and then we'll put it to a vote."

~_~_~_~

Rodney had a bounce in his step as he entered his hotel room. The trial was over and he could get back to work tomorrow. They had come to a unanimous decision and Larrin had been found guilty. He hadn't thought it possible at the beginning of the deliberations and even towards the end he wasn't sure they wouldn't end up as a hung jury. Because even though the rest of the jurors finally started listening to the evidence instead of their emotions, John was stubbornly hanging on to his innocent vote. He paused next to his bed. Why had John done that? He couldn't possibly believe Larrin was innocent. There had to be another reason.

"That must be some serious thinking you're doing there, cause I could hear the wheels creaking all the way down in the hallway," John said, making Rodney jump because he hadn't heard the other man enter the room.

"I'll have you know that my brain is a well-oiled machine, so there's no way you could have heard it. But if you really want to know, I was thinking about the trial. I don't get why you wanted Larrin to be innocent, when she was so clearly guilty."

"I didn't."

Now things made even less sense to Rodney. John thought she was guilty, but had stuck to his innocent-voted for a long time.

"I just didn't want the trial to end. I thought that by voting innocent I could at least delay the outcome for another day."

"You didn't want the trial to end?"

"No."

"Why wouldn't you want the trial to end?"

"Because, you'll go home now. Tomorrow, you'll go to your lab and probably won't leave until you've finished the project, and you'll go Antarctica and..."

"And?"

"And, I'll never see you again."

"Of course you will. I won't be in Antarctica forever. And they do have phones there and the Internet."

"It's not the same as being together in person," John said, looking miserable.

"No, it isn't," Rodney agreed and pulled John close for a quick hug..

"So, what made you change your mind?"

"Teyla."

"Who?"

John blinked. "You really are bad with names aren't you?"

"I use my brain for far more important things than remembering names and besides, that's why name tags were invented. Haven't we already had this conversation? So, who is Teyla and why does she have any bearing in your decision?"

"Teyla is the Athosian juror. She just had a baby a few weeks ago. Her fiancé Kanaan brings the baby to court every day so she can at least see her son, but it's not the same as holding him. And I realized that by delaying the trial, I was only keeping them apart longer."

"How do you even know all these things?"

"Because, unlike you, I talk to people."

"Hey!" Rodney protested. "I talk to people."

"No you don't. You talk _at_ people. There is a big difference."

"I talk to you, don't I?"

John closed the gap between them and placed a kiss on his brow.

"Yes, you do. You even remember my name too."

"That's because I'm especially motivated when it comes to you," Rodney grinned. "Unfortunately, we have be packed and ready to leave in one hour."

"That's plenty of time. Packing only takes five minutes," John said and started pushing Rodney to the bed.

"Maybe for you, but I need more time. And besides, once we're all done here, we can go back to my place. It's bigger and the bed is much better."

"I like the way you think."

Five minutes later, John's luggage was all packed and Rodney had only just started.

"If you want, I can hand you things, so you can pack them. It will go faster that way," John said and walked to the table to pick up the paperweight.

"Don't touch that!" Rodney yelled, but it was too late and John was holding a now glowing device in his hands. He must have seen the shock on Rodney's face though and put it back down.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." John starts apologizing, but Rodney interrupted him.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Rodney said, staring at the now 'dead' device on the table.

"I didn't know it could do that. I mean, you've been working on it since we go there and it's never done that before."

"I knew it could light up, but so far it's only done that for one person and we haven't been able to figure out why yet and since that person is uncooperative. We haven't been able to

figure out what it does either."

John picked up the device that started glowing prettily again as soon as he held it and started examining it.

"There's writing on the side. Do you know what it means?"

"Not really. We know that it's a date, but that's all."

Rodney looked at the item in John's hands when it suddenly started buzzing and a hologram of a young woman appeared... and disappeared again when John dropped the device on the table two seconds later.

"What the hell!"

"How did you get it to do that?"

"I don't know," John said, staring at the now inert object on the desk. "I once had to land my helicopter in front of the Sphinx at the Luxor hotel so a girl could make her grand entrance for her sweet 16 party and I was just thinking about how much it looked like one the invitations to her party and then that thing just..."

"Maybe you should pick it up again and so we can listen to what Princess Leia has to say."

"Princess Leia?" John smirked.

"Come on... You've got to admit, it's very Star Warsy."

"Is that even a word?"

"If it wasn't before, it is now. And besides, you've got to be just as curious as I am to know what the message is."

"I already know."

"You... you do?" wondering how John could possibly know such a thing.

"It is a message to Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"You're an asshole, you know that right?"

"Yep, I know," John said and picked up the device again. It started glowing and the hologram of the young woman appeared. Any similarity between her and the fantasy Princess disappeared when she started talking.

"Hi Iriana. I know we've had plans to spend the summer together, but I can't now because... You'll never guess." The young woman was practically bouncing now. "I've been accepted to study ascension in Atlantis..."

Rodney could feel his jaw drop and blinked a few times. He probably missed some of the recorded message, but the young woman was still talking when he'd forced himself to focus on the message once more. There was plenty of time to freak out afterwards.

"...you believe it? It's going to be awesome. So, in order to celebrate the fact that I was accepted into the program and Orlin wasn't, there will be a big party on the West Pier, where the view of the sunset is the best. Now, onto the boring bit. Since there will be lot of people coming to the party and we don't want there to be a repeat of what happened last year, there is now a strict dial-in schedule. If you go to the Gate at the designated time it will automatically dial Atlantis. So don't be late or you'll miss the party. The dialing schedule as well as a map with directions to the West Pier can be found on the information crystal. So, I'll see you at the party. And don't be late."

"That was cool," John said and put the device back on the table.

Rodney couldn't stop staring at it. Cool was an understatement. This was so much beyond cool that there wasn't a word for it. This was their ticket to Atlantis. It probably wouldn't work on the Earth Gate, but now that they knew the dialing information was there, he could probably find a way to extract it and...

"It was a good thing, right?" John interrupted his thinking.

Rodney looked at John and saw confusion and a little worry in his eyes. He wanted to make that look go away, but knowing he could never truly tell John how he felt right at that moment, (and wasn't that weird for a man who talked as much as he did) he decided to show John instead by pulling the man close and kissing him within an inch of his life.

"So, I take it was a good thing?" John said when they finally had to come up for air.

"A very good thing," Rodney agreed. "And you don't have to worry about not seeing me anymore," he added, looking from John to the device and back again. "Because you're going to be stuck with me for a very long time.

The End.


End file.
